


Fishing For Mudbloods

by dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 02:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap/pseuds/dirtydeedsdonedirtcheap
Summary: A Dramione Parody





	Fishing For Mudbloods

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've never posted before. It was written in 2012 for a parody challenge. I think it was like the "worst parody challenge" or something along those lines. I vaguely remember I was given the task of writing a Dramione. This is not how I normally write if you have ever read my stories this is not the norm so please do not be put off with my writing here. This is all in good fun. I hope. It kind of bugs me to be honest but hey, a challenge is a challenge. I never posted my entry for the challenge because I stopped writing fan fiction shortly after this for a little while.

** Fishing For Mudbloods **

 

People can change. It’s true! People can change their hair color from blonde to red, to green to blue if they want too.

 

They can change their clothes from revealing, exposing every bit of skin they can, leaving little to the imagination. They can also cover parts of their body where the sun doesn’t shine—obviously their ankles because though they might like to reveal parts of their body that should be better kept under wraps going barefoot is simply barbaric. They can also cover themselves up from head to toe like a Dementor.

 

People can change their personality from rude to crude, from nice to mean, but unlike changing your hair or your clothes, changing your personality could not be done by magic.

 

Of course, it could be done the old Muggle way, with a nice bump to the head.

 

“Ah!” Draco Malfoy shouted, walking into a wall.

 

He had been taking a nice leisurely stroll around the abandoned girls loo on the third floor, conversing with his only true friend, Moaning Myrtle. Though when she was around Draco she didn’t moan very much. She did offer to share her toilet with him and tried to talk him into eating peanuts because he was allergic to them.

 

The wall he walked into has always been there, for the record. It didn’t magically just appear out of thin air.

 

“Draco!” Myrtle shouted with glee. She floated towards her friend unable to contain her excitement. “Are you _finally_ dead?”

 

Draco groaned and flailed his arms around. He blinked three times. His vision was blurry and his head throbbed as he tried to remember what he had been thinking about before the wall rudely interrupted him.

 

_Gryffindors. How unfair it is that everyone thought he was awful even though he never killed Dumbledore and Voldemort had been defeated by Saint—Harry Potter. Oh, and Granger. Hermione Granger with her awful—_

He cursed to himself and shut his grey eyes.

 

What about Hermione? What about…

 

At the thought of Hermione Granger his head stopped pounding and he was able to open his eyes. His vision was once again clear. He glared at the wall and a smirk appeared on his lips.

 

But the smirk felt _odd_. His smirk fell into a frown and then his lips rose, first on the left and then on the right, creating some sort of expression he had never felt in his life before.

 

He turned his head slowly and stared at Myrtle with horror in his eyes.

 

“What’s going on with me!” he shouted. “My face! It _feels_!”

 

For her part, Myrtle stared at him completely flabbergasted. She was unable to utter a single word. She watched with interest as his face and neck flushed red.

 

Draco made a mad dash to the sinks and nervously stared at himself in the dirty mirror.

 

He was… _smiling_.

 

For all Draco knew he had never smiled before. His hands grabbed his face, pulling at his lips, trying to force them back into his usual smirk he had perfected at the ripe age of two.

 

His smile only got wider, exposing his pearly white teeth that could blind someone.

 

“Myrtle!” he yelled in panic. “Get Blaise! Get Crabbe…err…Goyle! No, Crabbe!” he paused. Which one of his henchman had perished again?

 

All well, it wasn’t important. They couldn’t read anyway, could they?

 

“Get me Hermione…I mean… _Granger_!”

 

Myrtle floated next to him and huffed. There were tears welling in her large eyes.

 

“No one ever cares about Myrtle! Olive Hornby—“

 

Draco groaned. “Honestly, is that all you ever talk about?”

 

Myrtle gave him a hard look and flew to her toilet, making a loud splashing noise as she dove in.

 

* * *

 

 

Blaise Zabini arched his eyebrow and stared curiously at Draco. Another person—Crabbe/Goyle, no one really knew which one was which—grunted as he peered at Draco, examining his mouth.

 

“You’re smiling,” Blaise said. “It’s eerie.”

 

Draco groaned and crossed his arms against his chest. He walked towards a black leather chair and gingerly sat down. He was afraid if he made any sudden movements his smile would grow.

 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he said with slight annoyance, though it appeared like he wasn’t annoyed at all. His eyes were twinkling. “I can’t _smirk_. What am I going to do with myself? How am I going to continue to be a devilish sex God and show off my Quidditch toned abs to the hairy pug-faced Slytherin females with _this_ on my face?”

 

To prove his point, three girls rushed down the steps from their dormitory. One was biting on a chew toy while the other two were licking the hair on the their arms with their pink tongues, trying to make their coat _—hair_ —stay down.

 

Meanwhile, Blaise arched his other eyebrow. He silently thanked his parents for his dark skin color because his blush wasn’t visible. Last time he had checked—and he tried to check regularly—Draco did _not_ have a six-pack. If anything he had a two pack.

 

“I’m going to ask you again,” he said boredly, because that was _his_ trademark. “What exactly brought this on?

 

Draco huffed but closed his eyes and tried to remember everything that happened in the girls’ loo.

 

“I was complaining about Gryffindors. My life, how tragic it is.”

 

“Naturally,” Blaise quipped. Crabbe/Goyle grunted.

 

“And then I started to talk about Hermione G—“

 

His eyes popped opened. They were shining brightly. He placed one hand on his heart that was suddenly thumping in his chest very loudly. He was certain people could hear it throughout the entire dungeons. Was he dying? Draco placed his other hand on his stomach to feel for his nonexistent six-pack.

 

He rose silently and started to waltz around the room with his hands still placed on his body. He started to hum to himself a tune that went to a very original song he had just created inside his head:

 

_Granger. Hermione! Granger! She’s beautiful. She’s a Gryffindor. Hermione! Herm-i-o-knee. She is the bees knees._

“You’re in love,” Blaise declared drily, “with a Gryffindor.”

 

Draco halted and gave him a panicked glance. “My Italian Stallion friend, I think you’re correct! I’m in love with Hermione Granger!”

 

There really was no point of questioning it. He ran out of the Slytherin common room shouting “woo-hoo” while jumping in the air clicking his heels together.

 

Blaise gave Crabbe/Goyle a hard look.

 

“I’m Black, why don’t people ever get that right?” he said, examining his dark skin.

 

Crabbe/Goyle grunted.

 

* * *

 

 

Draco watched Hermione from the entrance of the Great Hall. Her hair was shining brightly, glittering gold even though it was brown. It could have been silver or green and Draco would have thought she still glowed as brightly as the sun.

 

“Yoo-hoo!” he shouted, sounding like his mother when she used to pick him up at play dates.

 

He waved wildly at the Gryffindor table, trying to get the attention of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They were always together. It was like they were a trio or something.

 

They gaped at Draco from their table and then tried to quickly avert their eyes.

 

“I know you can hear me and see me!” he shouted, louder.

 

Blaise groaned from his spot at the Slytherin table and hung his head in his hands while Crabbe/Goyle arched his eyebrow and grunted.

 

“Hello, Gryffindor table! Let’s be friends!” The Great Hall was quiet as Draco continued on his tirade. Even the Professors who were present sat a little straighter in their chairs to listen to what was going on. “It’s silly that we’re always fighting. I’m not your enemy. The Dark Lord is dead! Besides, I’m in love with one of your own!”

 

Harry blinked thrice and then looked at Ron who was gripping his wand tightly. The two slowly slid under the table in fear that Draco Malfoy was talking about either of them.

 

It made sense if Draco was infatuated with Harry. Everyone was. He was the Chosen One and had a great head of hair.

 

Draco watched as Hermione joined her two friends underneath the table. They were crawling on all fours trying to quietly slip away.

 

Draco glided towards the table like a sawn in a lake.

 

“Hermione Granger,” he said loudly, grey eyes twinkling as he gazed at her. She was bee-youu-tee-ful.

 

Her curly long brown cascaded down her back like dark waves. Her mane reminded Draco of a horse and he neighed to show his appreciation.

 

Hermione arched her eyebrow and slowly got up from the floor. She pointed her wand at Draco’s puffed out chest. She could have punched him or turned him into a ferret since those were her signature moves but Draco didn’t care because he could be her ferret.

 

“Err…yes, Malfoy?” she questioned. She turned to glance at Harry and Ron but Ron had mysteriously disappeared. Harry shrugged his shoulders and grabbed a piece of treacle tart off the table.

 

“I’m in love with you,” Draco stated matter-of-factly.

 

Hermione laughed and then turned towards Harry again with a horrified expression on her face but he was too busy saving Seamus Finnigan’s eyebrows that had just caught fire for the third time that day.

 

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, because it seems Hermione was the only one that wanted to stay in character.

 

Draco pouted and ran towards the Slytherin table, squeezing in between Blaise and Crabbe/Goyle.

 

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered sullenly. “Why won’t she have me? I’m a Slytherin Sex God. She could be my goddess.”

 

Blaise turned to him and shrugged. “Not enough sexual tension. Make her jealous by dating another girl.”

 

He perked up at Blaise’s advice. “Does that work?”

 

Before he could respond there was a shrill cry at the end of the Slytherin table that made all present jump.

 

“Drakey-poo!” shouted Pansy Parkinson. “How could you! You know I love you!”

 

Blaise said nothing and Draco sighed. It was hard work being so beautiful. While Pansy wasn’t anywhere as beautiful as Hermione with her pug face and hairy sideburns she would do.

 

“Curse my good looks,” he mumbled.

 

Crabbe/Goyle grunted.

 

* * *

 

 

Leaving the plot line of trying to make Hermione jealous behind, Draco suddenly had an epiphany.

 

Outside he stood, the wind blowing through his blonde hair, holding a fishing rod in his hand.

 

“I figured it out,” he said, shaking the rod in his hand.

 

Blaise stopped himself from making inappropriate jokes because he was supposed to keep up his bored demeanor. Instead of saying anything he stared at the Black Lake. The Giant Squid was gliding along the surface without a care in the world.

 

“In order to catch Hermione, I must try to _catch_ her.”

 

Crabbe/Goyle stood on the other side of Draco and groaned, which translated to: “I am very confused.”

 

“Just go along with it because I said so,” Draco snapped, a bit miffed at having been questioned by an idiot. He paused to stare up at the blue sky and envisioned Hermione with her curves in all of the right places, her slender body and large breasts that appeared overnight. He would be content with her for the rest of his life.

 

Or however long it took to convince her to get into bed with him.

 

“Are you...are you saying the mudblood is a _fish_?” Blaise questioned with confusion. He stepped behind Draco and away from the gaze of the Giant Squid. It appeared it just winked at him.

 

“She’s not any type of fish, Blaise. She’s a _mermaid_. That’s why she has such bushy hair. It’s not meant to be dry. I’m going to reel her in from the water and save her from the merpeople. She’ll be all mine.” He cackled gleefully and clapped his hands together like a child who just figured out how to walk.

 

“But,” Blaise began, “we just saw her inside only ten minutes ago. How can she…you know what,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air, “I really don’t care.”

 

Draco ignored him as another breeze rolled by. It was a strong one and made the buttons on his shirt pop open, revealing his milky white chest and non-existent six-pack. He shivered slightly as he expertly threw the line into the Black Lake.

 

The Giant Squid squirted some black ink into the lake, making it darker. The ink started to form letters but Draco ignored them. He wasn’t used to thinking or reading at Hogwarts. He had spent most of his time brooding and doing the Dark Lord’s bidding there really hadn’t been much time for him to learn anything here.

 

Blaise wrinkled his nose as he stared at the letters.

 

_D-I-E B-L-A-I-S_

Draco waited impatiently for the words to go away but in an odd turn of events, Crabbe/Goyle shoved him in the water. The dark water rippled around him and then started to bubble. He smiled as the water began to turn a clear crystal blue.

 

A few seconds later Hermione Granger plunged her head out of the water and gasped for air. She swam towards Draco, a glittering green and blue tail in place of her legs.

 

“How did you…you were just inside! I want an explanation…oh, forget it!” Blaise shouted angrily.

 

Draco ignored him as Hermione floated before him.

 

“You do love me!” she cried, brown eyes glittering as she threw her delicate arms around Draco. He nodded his head and started to drag her out of the water.

 

“This is unbelievable!” Blaise shouted from the edge of the lake. “This is…this…Draco is mine!” He pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at Hermione. A jet of red light went straight for her chest.

 

Draco released so he wouldn’t get hit too. Hermione yelped and fell back into the water, lifeless. He figured she’d survive more or less. He might have been in love with her but he wasn’t necessarily _committed_ to her.

 

“Blaise?” Draco whispered from the water. He stared eerily at where Hermione’s body had just been.

 

“Curse you for being so beautiful!” he shouted, trudging off towards the castle.

 

Draco sighed, walking out of the lake and up towards the castle.

 

 _Maybe_ , he thought sullenly, he _would_ share a toilet with Myrtle.

 

 

****

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****


End file.
